Tribute Victor Neighbor Friend
by JavisTG
Summary: Canon divergent. Set between the end of THG and the beginning of Catching Fire. What if Prim had helped Peeta and Katniss work out their differences a bit sooner.
1. The Neighbor

**The Neighbor.**

Peeta crossed his arms over his chest and let out a satisfied sigh.

Three perfect loaves rested on his kitchen counter. Their golden, crisp crusts made his mouth water.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath allowing the enticing smell of freshly baked bread to tickle his nose.

A smile spread across his lips and, for the first time in what felt like ages, he laughed. The empty house in Victors' Village was finally beginning to feel like a home.

Taking advantage of his good mood, Peeta opened a drawer and pulled out two clean tea towels. After laying them flat on the countertop, he placed a loaf inside each and left the third one for later.

With practiced ease, he wrapped each bread in its towel and, after stacking one loaf on top of the other, he slid them over the countertop and into his waiting arms.

Another deep breath settled his nerves.

With newfound determination, he squared his shoulders, plastered a smile on his face, and made his way to Katniss's house.

Mrs. Everdeen opened the door, blue eyes surprised to find him standing on her front porch. "Good morning, Peeta!"

"Hello, Mrs. E.," he said in the friendliest tone he could muster. With one sheepish look at the covered loaves bundled in the crook of his arm, he said, "Looks like I baked a little too much this morning."

Handing one of the loaves to her, he added, "I thought I'd share with my neighbors. Hope that's ok."

Mrs. Everdeen smiled kindly at him. "Thank you, Peeta, that's very nice of you." She reached out to accept his offering. He could see her knuckles turning slightly white as her fingers tightened around the still warm loaf.

"You're welcome," he said. Before they could exchange any more pleasantries, —or she felt compelled to ask him in— Peeta cocked his head towards Haymitch's house, and added, "Gotta go. One more delivery to make!"

"See you later, then. Have a good day!" Mrs. Everdeen said affably before stepping back to close the door.

Peeta turned back on his steps.

In one cleansing exhale, he released all the air from his lungs. A sense of peaceful well-being enveloped him, and he walked the short distance to Haymitch's house on much lighter feet.

He had spent the last few weeks holed up in his house, licking his wounds and living like a hermit. But he'd had enough. He was a victor, a survivor, and he was done feeling sorry for himself.

His family didn't want to share in his good fortune? That was their loss.

Katniss wouldn't give him the time of day? That was her choice.

He wasn't going to force Katniss to acknowledge him, but he refused to spend any more time hiding in the shadows and acting like he had done something wrong.

District 12 was big enough for both of them. He could be neighborly and sociable without interacting with Katniss Everdeen. Wasn't that what he'd done for most of his life anyway?

XXXXX

The soft knock on the front door caught him by surprise. Intrigued, Peeta rushed to answer.

His eyes widened when he caught sight of Prim waiting on his front porch; her smile shy and hesitant as she stood, ramrod straight, clutching a wooden box in her small hands.

"Hey, Prim."

"Hi, Peeta," she answered politely. "I stopped by to bring you this." In one fluid motion, she pushed the box into his hands.

Dumbstruck, he took the box from her. It was heavier than he'd expected. His fingers caressed the smooth surface which had been varnished with a blue hue.

"Thanks," he said, lifting the box so he could inspect it more closely. "What's in it?"

"Some ointments and balms," Prim explained.

"Did your mother make them?"

She nodded. "I helped a little," she added with a small shrug.

Peeta smiled. He was about to thank her for the present and send her on her merry way when a thought popped into his head. Before he had time to second-guess himself, he asked, "Hey, I was just about to make a cup of tea. Would you like some?"

Prim's mouth dropped open and, for an instant, Peeta thought she was going to decline his offer but, instead, she said, "Sure. I'd love some."

Opening the door wider for her, he said, "Alright, come on right in."

XXXXX

Peeta walked into his kitchen with Prim trailing close behind.

"Grab a stool and sit down," he instructed, carefully leaving his wooden box on top of the kitchen island. "Which one do you prefer, mint or black?" he asked, placing two containers in front of her.

Prim cocked her head to the side. "Mint, please."

"Very well, mint it is." Grabbing the container with the mint leaves, Peeta turned to the stove and busied himself with the tea.

Sitting on her stool, Prim watched as her neighbor measured tea leaves and poured hot water into a large teapot.

She had never been to Peeta's house before, and she was surprised to discover that, although the structural layout was exactly the same as in Katniss's, the décor was entirely different.

Mrs. Everdeen had chosen traditional pieces that gave the place a formal look, but the furniture in Peeta's house was a lot more modest and inviting, homelier. Prim quickly decided she liked it.

Peeta was still busy arranging teacups and a small plate with cookies on a tray when Prim's eyes landed on a small watercolor which hung on the wall closest to the back door. It was a landscape of the meadow at springtime. It was so vivid she could almost smell the damp earth and feel the soft blades of grass brushing against her fingers.

"Did you paint that?" she asked, pointing at the picture.

Startled, Peeta turned around. Narrowing his eyes, he followed the direction of Prim's finger. "Oh! Yeah. I painted that a while back."

With a sigh, Peeta grabbed the tray laden with goodies and took it over to the island where Prim was sitting. With a steady hand, he poured a cup and handed it over to her. Then, he repeated the process, pouring some tea for himself before sitting down on his own stool.

"Cookie?" he offered, pushing the small plate towards his visitor.

Nodding, Prim reached for one of the cookies and held it in her hand. Her eyes lit up as she inspected the frosting. Peeta had decorated it with a lilac bloom. "You've always been very talented, you know?"

Peeta's cheeks turned pink at the girl's praise. "Thanks, Prim," he mumbled.

Prim bit into the cookie, chewing thoughtfully before speaking again. "I've always liked your cakes -especially the ones you made in spring with all the different flowers. I used to beg Katniss to take me to the bakery so that I could see them," she said, smiling brightly at the happy memory.

Peeta took a sip of his tea, grateful for Prim's warmth and innocence. If he closed his eyes, he could still recall Katniss's visits to the bakery and the awe in Prim's pretty face; her nose pressed against the window as she admired his creations.

"I also like your signature," Prim added, seemingly as lost in her memories as he was.

Peeta straightened up, leaving his cup back on the table. "My signature?"

Prim's head bobbed up and down. "The Katniss flower. Most of your cakes had one; small and white. It was usually tucked into a corner, hidden beneath other things, but I always spotted it. It was almost like a game."

Peeta swallowed thickly. Prim was right. For years he had played with the white petals, carefully coloring the center of the flowers with beetroot juice whenever he could find it. But he hadn't thought anyone had noticed.

His chest tightened to the point of nausea as he asked, "Does your sister know?"

Prim quickly shook her head. "I never told her. I honestly thought it was just a coincidence."

Peeta chuckled, there wasn't any joy in it, just relief. After everything he'd been through in the last couple of months, he didn't think he couldn't handle knowing that Katniss might have had an inkling into what his feelings were all along.

With a sigh, Peeta turned away from Prim.

His eyes landed on the present she had given him. Eager to find a distraction, he reached for it and placed it next to his teacup. "So, what have we got here?" he asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly at the sight of the six small glass jars packed inside the box.

"Just a few basics," Prim said. Pointing to each jar, she explained, "The first one is for burns, you'll probably use this one the most. The second one is to prevent infection in case of cuts. The third one will come in handy during the summer, it's for mosquito bites, reduces the swelling and prevents itching. The fourth is for winter; you have to rub it on your back and chest if you have a cold. The last two are oils. You have to put a few drops in a bowl with boiling water -or in a humidifier if you have one. They're soothing, and they'll help you relax. You can use them at night before you go to sleep."

Peeta nodded, quickly taking in all of Prim's instructions. "Thank you, Prim. This is a great present. Please tell your mom how much I appreciate it."

Prim blew into her teacup and took a small sip. "Sure. I'll let her know."

A comfortable silence settled over the pair as they both drank their teas and nibbled on a few more cookies.

Peeta had almost drained his cup when Prim cleared her throat. "Can I ask you something?"

Peeta looked up. For the first time since she'd stepped into his house, her voice sounded strained.

"Sure, Prim, anything."

Prim wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders dropped. He could almost see the air leaving her lungs in one shaky exhale. "Do you have them?" she asked.

Peeta waited for a moment, mind racing as he tried to figure out what Prim was talking about. When she didn't offer any more information, he asked, "What are you talking about, Prim?"

Blue eyes, sad and worried, locked with his. "Nightmares," she clarified. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. "Do you have nightmares, Peeta?"

His whole body went numb. Of course, he had nightmares. It was one of the darker realities of being a victor. He had a lot of money, a lot of free time, and plenty of ghosts to keep him company.

Looking past his anxiety, he saw Prim sitting across from him, hugging herself while she waited for his answer.

The young girl who had initially been chosen to be his companion in the arena looked a lot older than any 12-year-old ever should. Who could blame her after everything she'd been through lately?

 _What would have happened to her_ , he wondered, _if Katniss hadn't volunteered to take her place. What would have happened to me?_

His gut twisted uncomfortably at the question. He didn't have to dig too deep to know that neither one of them would be there, having tea in his kitchen, if Katniss hadn't stepped up.

 _Katniss_.

Suddenly, Prim's question made a lot more sense.

Looking straight into the girl's eyes, he admitted, "I do. I have them almost every night."

Prim's whole posture relaxed as if a great weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Trying to keep his voice steady, Peeta asked, "How about Katniss, does she have bad dreams?"

Prim nodded. Her eyes turned glassy, but she kept her tears at bay. "She wakes up screaming in the middle of the night. Sometimes I understand what she says, but there are nights when I don't know what's going on." Dropping her hands on her lap, she laced them together. "I know she doesn't want to scare me, but she always looks terrified, like her mind is trapped in the arena or something."

Peeta's teacup rattled as he clumsily placed it on its saucer.

His hands trembled as he felt the effect of Prim's words, slicing through him like a warm knife cutting through butter, quickly melting the resentment and anger he'd been carrying around ever since he'd come back from the Capitol.

He had been so mad at Katniss, -blaming her for turning him into a lovesick idiot, a blundering fool who had opened his heart only to have it trampled on— that he'd never stopped to consider how she might be feeling or how she was handling her life as a victor.

"I'm sorry, Prim," he mumbled, his voice raw and broken.

Prim smiled kindly at him as she shook her head. Her cheeks turned pink when she added, "Sometimes she calls out your name."

"What?" Peeta croaked.

Slowly, Prim went on, "She calls out for you, asks you to run or wait. She asks you to stop, to stay. She gets mad and cries when you don't listen."

Peeta released the air burning his lungs in one long exhale. The room around him began to spin making him nauseous.

Wrapping his hands around the edge of the tabletop, he pressed down. Hard. Anchoring himself to the room.

Gradually, his breathing evened out, his heart stopped pounding.

Collecting his thoughts, he said, "I dream about her too."

Prim's head snapped up. "You do?"

Peeta opened his mouth to speak but stopped, unsure of how to explain what his dreams were about without scaring Prim too much.

How could he tell her that he saw her sister dying every night, bleeding in his arms as he stood by unable to do anything but watch? He didn't have the right words to explain how the weight of Katniss's lifeless body, pressing down on his lap while he yelled at her to stay alive, remained with him long after he woke up from his nightly terrors.

Swallowing thickly, he said, "I dream of her slipping between my fingers."

He didn't know if his words made a lot of sense. But Prim seemed to get the picture. Her slight nod made him believe she understood.

XXXXX

 **AN.** Reviews are as soothing as Prim's balms. You always make my day when you share them with me. Thanks!

You can also find me on Tumblr. I'm Javistg over there, come and say hi!

The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.


	2. The Friend

**The Friend**

In the days that followed, Peeta began to settle into a new routine. He baked. He painted. He kept his house in order, and he visited his family in town.

Sharing the bread and cookies, he made with his neighbors became second nature to him, a natural part of his days.

Permanently hungover and surly, Haymitch growled every time Peeta stopped by, but he never failed to eat whatever 'the boy' left behind.

Across the street, Mrs. Everdeen was always cordial and polite. She never invited him in, but he didn't mind, he wasn't looking to break the peace at the Everdeen home.

He still hadn't spoken to Katniss, but he caught sight of her most days as she came and went on her daily trips to the Seam and the woods.

It was strange, being able to recognize the signs of worry and fatigue in her silver eyes, knowing that he was one of the reasons why they were there and still not being able to do anything about them.

One afternoon, as he was enjoying a beautiful sunset from the comfort of his porch swing, Prim stopped by. Her short visits, much like his bread delivery, had become a regular occurrence in his daily life.

"Hey, Peeta!" she greeted, climbing the stairs to his porch two at a time.

"Hey, Prim, care to join me?" he asked patting the empty seat next to him.

Prim smiled and sat down on the swing. Her legs, too short to reach the floor, hung limply from the edge of her seat.

"So, how are things?" Peeta asked.

"Ok, I guess," Prim said with a shrug. "We're going over to Gale's later tonight."

Peeta's ears perked up. "You are?"

"Yeah. It's Rory's birthday, and Hazelle is having us over for dinner."

"Sounds like fun."

"It used to be," Prim mumbled.

Peeta straightened in his seat. "Something wrong, Prim?"

"Nothing," she huffed. "It's just… well..." Her sky-blue eyes found his. He was surprised by the sadness in them. "Having dinner with the Hawthornes used to be a lot of fun," she explained, "Katniss and Gale would bring something special from the woods, and we'd all share everything we had. It was never a big production, but we were all together, and we were happy. But lately…"

After a short silence, Peeta supplied, "You're not as happy?"

"Nope." Prim turned to look at the horizon. Deep purples and golden oranges crisscrossed the sky. A handful of eager stars shone their light down on them. It was going to be a beautiful autumn night.

Prim's words broke the quiet. "He was really good to us while Katniss was away, you know?"

"Gale?" Peeta guessed trying not to choke on the name.

Prim nodded. "But he's been acting weird lately." Looking at her nails, she added, "I used to think it was because of you."

A mirthless chuckle left Peeta's lips. He shook his head but said nothing.

Ignoring his outburst, Prim added, "I don't think he liked seeing you and Katniss together."

Rankled by Prim's words, Peeta lashed out, "Well… we're not together now!" Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he lowered his voice. "In fact, we never were. It was all an act. Your sister only pretended to care about me to get us medicine and food. I'd think Gale would know that by now."

Prim winced at Peeta's bitter words. She hadn't known him for long, but he'd always been civil and gentle. Their conversations over the past few weeks usually soothed her and put her mind at ease. Seeing him seethe like this had caught her completely off guard.

A part of her understood he was angry and wanted to commiserate but, as much as she liked him, she resented his words.

She was about to tell him off for accusing Katniss of being dishonest when a new thought popped into her head. "Is that why you don't talk to her because it was all an act?" Prim asked.

Keeping his eyes on the sunset in front of them, Peeta nodded.

Prim crossed her arms over her chest and relaxed into her seat. "I don't understand," she said.

"What don't you understand?"

"Well, you say Katniss only pretended to care about you. But," Using her fingers, Prim counted every though that spilled out of her mouth. "Why did she go to the feast to get your medicine or wait that long to take your tourniquet off? And, why would she risk poisoning by putting deadly nightlock in her mouth? She could have just waited for you to eat it or she could have walked away, but she didn't. Why did she stay with you?"

"I don't know!" Peeta yelled at the sky startling Prim.

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and buried his hands in his hair.

Defeat and frustration hung from every syllable as he admitted, "I can't figure it out, Prim. I don't know why she'd risk so much when she didn't really care about me; why she kept me alive when it would have been easier to just let me die."

A knot settled in Prim's throat.

Even though their friendship was new, she cared about Peeta. She didn't fully understand what was happening between him and Katniss, but she hadn't forgotten that he'd risked his life to save her sister and she didn't like seeing him like that; broken, hurt.

"Everything would be so much simpler," Peeta added with a hollow, tired sigh. "Katniss could be back here, with you and your mom, and she and Gale could be making their wedding plans without worrying about me."

Prim frowned. Peeta's sad words hung over her, haunting her mind like a dark cloud that wouldn't go away.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, shattering the silence which had settled between them.

Confused, Peeta turned to look at her. "What do you mean?"

"Why would Katniss marry Gale?" Prim asked.

Peeta shrugged. "Cause that's what girlfriends and boyfriends do?"

"Katniss and Gale aren't together like that," she said, shaking her head for emphasis.

"Come on, Prim!" Peeta exclaimed with the most dramatic eye roll Prim had ever seen. "They hunt together, they trade together, they celebrate family events together. They're always together!" he finished, waving his empty hands in front of him.

"Not anymore," Prim countered.

"Well, that's because he has to work at the mine and she's not in the Seam anymore. But I'm sure they see each other every chance they get."

"Well, yeah, because they're friends. They're still hunting partners, but they're not sweethearts," she insisted.

"Didn't you just tell me that Gale was upset about Katniss and me?"

"I did, but that's him, not her. Katniss doesn't see him that way."

After taking a steadying breath, Peeta angled his body in Prim's direction. His voice was smooth as silk when he said, "Listen, Prim, I know you know your sister better than I do, but you might be missing something here. I'm pretty sure there's something more than friendship between Katniss and Gale Hawthorne."

"But-," Prim bit her lip as she carefully considered her next words. "Did she ever tell you she was dating him?"

"No." Peeta shook his head. "She's always denied it. But I've seen the way he looks at her, and how she smiles when she talks about him. It's the only explanation that makes any sense."

Prim smiled, her blue eyes softened as the pieces of the puzzle she had been trying to figure out for weeks finally fit into place.

She knew her next words were bound to get her in trouble with Katniss. Her sister was a private person who probably wouldn't approve of Prim's recent conversations with Peeta. How was she going to react when she found out her little sister had been spilling her secrets?

Prim knew Katniss would probably take offense at her meddling. She was already preparing herself for the yelling and the scowls Katniss was bound to throw her way. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and Prim couldn't just sit by and do nothing while her sister suffered and withered away.

Katniss needed help, but it was a kind of help the two Everdeen healers couldn't provide.

After giving the matter much thought, Prim had decided that Peeta was the right person for the job and their last conversations had only strengthened that belief. After all, the baker's son was the only one who could understand what Katniss was really going through.

So, even though she knew she'd be incurring her sister's wrath, Prim followed through with her plan.

In the soft, soothing whisper she had learned from her mother, Prim explained. "Katniss doesn't want to get married, Peeta. She never has."

Peeta's eyes widened at Prim's admission.

"I think she decided after dad died and mom-," The next words died in her tongue. She wanted Peeta to understand Katniss's motives, but she didn't want to go into unnecessary details. Swallowing past the anxious lump in her throat, she added, "I thought that was the reason why you didn't talk to each other. Because she had told you that."

Peeta shook his head. "She never mentioned it." Prim could hear the regret in his voice when he muttered, "Not that I gave her much of a chance to explain."

A flicker of hope came to life inside Prim's chest. If she played her cards right, she just might be able to get Peeta to act. Pressing her index finger to her chin, she asked, "You know what I think you should do?"

Peeta chuckled.

Prim knew he was probably onto her, but it didn't matter, it was too late to turn back.

"No," he said with a smile, "but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

Prim nodded matching his smile with one of her own. "You should talk to her."

"And why is that, Prim?"

"Well, I don't know," she said, shrugging to seem more casual, "maybe because you're neighbors and co-victors; or because you have a lot of free time on your hands." Her voice grew serious as she added, "But also, because no one else knows what you two went through, and it might be good to talk to someone else who was there."

Peeta nodded, slowly taking in her words. "And because you think it might make the nightmares stop," he added, looking her square in the eyes.

Prim's cheeks turned pink, but she didn't look away. "Yeah, that too."

Peeta stretched his legs and leaned against the back of the swing, mimicking Prim's position. "Fine," he agreed, "I'll think about it."

XXXXX

The sun was already high in the sky when Katniss walked through the gates of Victors' Village.

Peeta's heart pounded painfully against his ribcage as he watched her making her way along the paved street that connected their homes.

 _Now or never_ , he thought.

Before he had time to second-guess himself, he opened the front door and called out, "Hey, Katniss!"

Like a deer caught in headlights, Katniss froze. Slowly, she turned to him, gray eyes wide and alert.

Peeta swallowed thickly. Keeping his voice as even as possible, he asked, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Katniss's eyes narrowed. He could almost see the string of thoughts coursing through her mind as she tried to figure out what he wanted. Eventually, she nodded, the movement stiff and tense.

Peeta pointed to his porch swing. "Care to sit down?"

Without a word, Katniss reached the porch and sat, keeping her back as straight as a board as she waited for Peeta to join her on the swing.

Leaving as much space between them as possible, Peeta took a seat beside her. "I'll try to keep it brief," he said, taking a deep breath to brace himself for what was about to come next. "Look, Katniss, I've been wanting to talk to you about the way I acted on the train when we came back home."

A short gasp escaped Katniss's parted lips, the late autumn cold turned it into a white cloud that floated away searching for the sky. Keeping her silver eyes trained on her lap, she waited for Peeta to continue.

Encouraged by the fact that she hadn't run away yet, Peeta said, "I've had a lot of time to think things through, and… I've realized that it wasn't fair of me to hold you to anything that happened in the Games. I'm sorry."

With a shuddering sigh, Katniss's whole posture relaxed. Slowly, she turned to look at him. A ghost of a smile hung from her lips as she said, "I'm sorry, too."

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about," he assured her. "You were just keeping us alive. But I don't want us to go on like this, ignoring each other in real life and then acting like everything is okay in front of the cameras."

"Like on parcel day," she muttered.

Peeta nodded. "Yeah. There's another one coming up this weekend. I don't think I can stomach it if I have to act the way we did last month."

Katniss leaned against the swing's backrest and stretched her legs in front of her. "That was horrible," she admitted, looking at the street in front of them.

"Yeah," he agreed. "So, I thought if I stopped being so, you know, wounded, we could take a shot at just being friends."

For the first time in months, Katniss looked at him, really looked at him, and smiled. "Just friends?"

"Just friends," he confirmed.

"Okay," she answered. "I think I'd like that too."

XXXXX

Peeta opened the front door to discover a thin dusting of snow covering the pavement. A cold breeze kissed his cheeks. Winter had come to Victors' Village.

He was about to turn back into his house to go find a thicker coat when he saw Prim walking in his direction.

"Hey, Peeta," she called out waving a mittened hand at him.

"Hey, Prim! Want to come in?"

"No, thanks, I just came by to deliver a message," she said joining him by the open door.

"A message?"

"Yeah. Katniss wants to know if you'll be coming over for dinner later. It's the last night before your Victory Tour, and I think she wants to make something special."

Unable to hide his surprise, Peeta gawked. "Katniss is cooking?"

Prim shrugged. "She says she's inspired." Rocking on the balls of her feet, she asked, "So, what should I tell her, are you coming?"

"Sure, I'll be there. Should I bring anything?"

"You could bring dessert," Prim suggested, playfully wiggling her brows.

Peeta chuckled. "Sure thing!"

"Alright, see you later then," Prim said turning on her heels. She was about to start walking when a familiar orange fur ball brushed up against her leg. "Buttercup!" she exclaimed.

Sliding her hand under the cat's tummy, Prim lifted him up and pressed her nose against Buttercup's. Softly, she crooned, "What are you doing here, little rascal?"

Buttercup meowed, and Prim pulled away to inspect him more closely. With a lazy yawn, the cat licked his whiskers.

Prim gasped. "Has Peeta been feeding you?" she asked, turning a questioning look in Peeta's direction.

Peeta's ears turned pink. Running a hand through his hair, he smiled sheepishly at her. "He comes by sometimes, I just give him milk or scraps when I have them," he explained.

"I can't blame you, Peeta, he's adorable," she said bringing the mangy cat back into her arms. "But the party's over now mister," she told the cat, "I'll be feeding you a little less from now on. You don't need the extra weight. You're a hunter, you need to be agile, not sluggish."

Peeta watched the entire exchange with a smile on his lips. Being a victor still had its dark moments, but his life in Victors' Village wasn't as sad and dreary as it had been when he'd first come back from the Games.

His contact with Haymitch and the Everdeens eased his loneliness and the sorrow he felt whenever he thought about his family, who was still living away on the town while he was forced to live on his own.

The time he spent with Katniss filled him with a sense of contentment and joy he'd never felt before.

It didn't matter that she wasn't interested in romance, she was willing to be his friend, and he was finally getting to know her, the real her, not the fantasy in his teenage mind, or the packaged product the Capitol liked to promote, but the real Katniss. The one who could laugh at his jokes and still wake up screaming in the middle of the night; the one who loved her sister above all else and who sat by his side every afternoon to watch the sun setting in the sky.

As Prim turned to leave with Buttercup bundled in her arms, Peeta blurted out, "Thanks, Prim."

Caught off guard, Prim turned around. "What for?"

"For getting me to talk to your sister."

Prim smiled, it was bright and warm and full of affection. "You're welcome, Peeta. Thanks for listening to me," she said, sounding as serious as any adult.

A knot settled in Peeta's throat. Katniss wasn't the only loving sister in Victors' Village, Prim loved her sister just as much.

With an emphatic nod, he acknowledged her words. "See you later."

"Yep, later!" Prim replied, turning around and walking back to her home.

Peeta watched from his porch as the twelve-year-old skipped happily along the road, her blond braids bouncing like sprigs of wheat under the pale winter sun.

As an overwhelming sense of contentment settled over him, tears filled his eyes.

Prim was healthy, his family was fine. Three doors down the street, Katniss was alive. After everything he'd been through, he couldn't ask anything more from life.

 **AN.** Reviews are as soothing as Prim's balms. You always make my day when you share them with me. Thanks!

You can also find me on Tumblr. I'm Javistg over there, come and say hi!

The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.


End file.
